Talk Southern to Me Read online

  Talk

  Southern

  to Me

  Julia Fowler

  Talk Southern to Me

  Digital Edition 1.0

  Text © 2018 Julia Fowler

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except brief portions quoted for purpose of review.

  Gibbs Smith

  P.O. Box 667

  Layton, Utah 84041

  Orders: 1.800.835.4993

  www.gibbs-smith.com

  ISBN: 978-1-4236-4897-0

  This book is dedicated to my Mama and Daddy, who are the finest Southerners I know; and to my darlin’ Sam, for embracing all my Southern eccentricities.

  Talk Southern to Me

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Charm

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Beauty and Style

  Talk Southern to Me When Chewin' the Fat

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Life

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Love and Marriage

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Parenting

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Your State of Mind

  Talk Southern to Me 'Bout Stuff That Needs Interpretin'

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Introduction

  The minute I open my mouth outside of the Deep South I’m asked the same question, “Are you from Texas?” So let me set the record straight. Yes , I have a big fat Southern accent that I wear as proudly as my granny’s pearls, but I’m not from Texas. I was born and raised in the little town of Gaffney, South Carolina. Although my people are humble country folks who weren’t rich, they gave me the richest foundation a gal could ever ask for—a Southern upbringing.

  My childhood was saturated with Jesus and fried okra, lightning bugs and flip flops, yes ma’ams and no sirs, casseroles and cheese balls, taffeta and pom-poms, fishing and tubing, sponge rollers and hair spray, thank-you notes and social rules, pageants and tiaras, honeysuckle and honeybees, creeks and crawdads, moon pies and hayrides, pickup trucks and football games, magnolia trees and broken arms, sweet tea and skeeters, Myrtle Beach and Mason jars, and umpteen lessons. Lord the lessons . . . clogging, tap, jazz, ballet, piano, singing, baton, modeling, banjo, Irish step dancing, macramé, sign language, and endless hours of practicing my cursive writing. Thank you, Mama—I’m pretty darn proud of my handwriting, although admittedly, I’ve got no clue how to say that in sign language.

  All those lessons led me down a path of lunacy called show business, where I found myself forced to live in two cities that were the polar opposite of the South—New York and Los Angeles. I have been blessed to work in TV, film, and on Broadway, and throughout, I’ve been constantly harassed about my Southern accent and grammar. When I would say things like, “Sugarbritches, unlatch that doomafloochie and raise that window down,” city slickers would just stare at me like I was nuttier than a fruitcake.

  Desperately missing the South and tired of being misunderstood, I decided to release my frustration through comedy. I gathered some my best friends who are hilarious Southern women and made a video that celebrated the Sh%t Southern Women Say and the humorous ways we say it. I had no idea if anybody would even watch my first video. But, my stars in heaven, the thing went viral and my YouTube Southern Women Channel was born.

  My stars in heaven, the thing went viral . . .

  Millions of views and many videos later, I have found a huge Internet community of folks who, like me, are proud as punch of their Southern heritage and parlance. There’s just nothing like a good Southernism. While one could say, “Loretta had a bad face-lift,” a Southerner says, “Loretta’s had her face pulled tighter than a gnat’s ass!” While one could say, “I’m very busy,” a Southerner says, “Hun, I’m busier than a two-dollar hooker on nickel night.” And while one could say, “That is useless,” a Southerner says, “That’s as useless as tits on a bull.” No matter the situation, Southern folks always have an ’ism to fit the occasion.

  This book is a love letter to the South. As you read, I hope the stories, slang, and sayings will elicit memories of all the colorful, rib-tickling Southerners who have left an imprint on your life. Ultimately, it is Southerners who are responsible for keeping Southern traditions and phraseology alive. And if you’re not from the South, bless your heart, pay attention ’cause there’s a ton of wisdom to be found in these heartfelt, humorous expressions. Mama always said, “Sugar, your strength lies in your uniqueness,” and she was right. Southerners speak their own unique version of the English language. It’s a linguistic art. And it’s gooder than grits, y’all.

  XOXO

  Talk

  Southern

  to Me 'Bout

  Charm

  Charm

  “Don’t cost a nickel to be polite.”

  Southern hospitality is as indigenous to the South as magnolia trees. Having proper manners and displaying social grace in everyday actions is simply a way of life. It’s an institution. And if you fail to follow these traditions, then your Southern family is liable to throw you in a mental institution. There are rules: you don’t show up empty-handed to a dinner party even if you recently had both your hands amputated; if an elderly person is standing, then your younger butt better not be occupying a seat; and you never take store-bought food to a funeral reception even if your archenemy died. Southerners pass these kinds of rules down to the next generation so that they understand they are part of something bigger than themselves. The distinct Southern culture that has long defined the South would be extinct if older generations of Southerners weren’t working harder than a one-eyed cat watching two mouse holes to preserve it.

  In the South, good breeding is your legacy. And good breeding has nothing to do with money or education. I was raised by a blue-collar family who taught me that it “don’t cost a nickel to be polite.” Mastering the South’s etiquette code and developing a sense of pride through social graces is considered more important than academics or wealth. Good manners teach you respect and self-discipline. Social graces give you composed confidence. When you combine these essential ingredients, you get the most delectable Southern dish of all: Southern charm.

  Southern charm is the art of making everyone around you feel at ease. But Southern charm doesn’t come naturally, y’all. No, no, no! You can’t make others feel at ease unless you yourself have enough poise to feel at ease in a myriad of social and professional situations. So Southerners must start training early in life to develop the very charm that is the signature of the South. I graduated Magna Cum Laude from the University of South Carolina, but I assure you, many more grueling hours of effort were required pursuing my PhD in Southern charm. In order to acquire this degree, one must master four fundamental subjects: Politeness, Kindness, Table Manners, and Social Graces.

  Politeness

  Before I was even potty trained, my Southern family began training me to address my elders as “ma’am” and “sir” and to end sentences with “please” and “thank you.” I was endlessly corrected and conditioned like a lab rat until, eventually, muscle memory kicked in and it became an ingrained habit. It’s such second nature now that I have actually caught myself responding “yes ma’am” to an automated phone system. Southern boys are shaped into Southern gentlemen by this same method. But in addition to learning phrases like “ma’am” and “sir,” Southern boys must also be schooled on Southern chivalry, such as opening doors and pulling out chairs, until it becomes cemented in their brains that all women should be treated as politely as they treat their Mamas.

  Southern politeness also requires that you learn to write Pulitzer Prize–winning thank-you notes
. My penmanship is exquisite because Mama drilled me on it like Archie Manning drilled Eli and Peyton on football. Seems downright unfair I can’t get a multimillion-dollar contract writing cursive. In any case, good handwriting is crucial because proper thank-you notes must be handwritten with a pen on decent card stock, preferably monogrammed, and the wording must be specific and thoughtful. And, most importantly, thank-you notes must be written and mailed in a timely fashion. Emailing a thank-you note is the kiss of death and will get you thrown out of the Junior League faster than a cat can lick its butt.

  Emailing a thank-you note is the kiss of death . . .

  Southern politeness also demands that you greet everyone you encounter, friend or stranger, with a smile and a “Heeeeey, how are youuuuuuu?” And forgetting to wave when you drive by your neighbors or someone else you know is a cardinal sin. Even if your engine is on fire and your dog is biting your baby’s ear off in the back seat, you must not forget this. Waving is of utmost importance while driving. We call this the Southern “throw up.” If you throw up one finger it means “Hey!” If you throw up two fingers it means “How y’all doing?” If you throw up your whole hand it means “How’s your Mama and ’nem?” Throwing up nothing means “I’m a jackass.”

  Kindness

  To secure a degree in Southern charm it’s not enough to be polite; you must also become proficient in kindness. Kindness requires that you train yourself to constantly think of others. You must remember birthdays, anniversaries, and graduations; acknowledge job promotions; and welcome new neighbors. This should be done with homemade cookies or cakes, homegrown vegetables or flowers from your garden, or thoughtfully selected note cards. Never send an Edible Arrangement—this screams tacky. You must also host and/or attend a gazillion baby and bridal showers and watch patiently as the gifts are opened in an elaborate display. And Southerners are competitive with their kindness, so one must go the extra mile to have gifts personalized with monograms, dig up a family heirloom, or at the very least spend half a year crocheting booties, needlepointing a pillow, or making a quilt the baby or the groom is certain to puke on within weeks.

  Kindness also demands you acknowledge and engage in polite conversation with people in all walks of life: cashiers, plumbers, parking attendants, waiters, exterminators, secretaries, janitors, bail bondsmen. Southerners can learn a bank teller’s entire life history while making a deposit. This is time consuming and contributes to the slow pace of the South, but Southern charm stipulates you embrace this turtle pace.

  And no matter what, you must make time for the elderly. Southerners are extremely respectful of the elderly and go out of their way to extend kindness to them. I spent a substantial amount of my childhood performing in nursing homes. I did little shows featuring monologues, dance routines, piano playing—whatever my Mama deemed acceptable nursing home entertainment. Mama rehearsed me as if I was prepping to perform at Radio City Music Hall, and she didn’t care how much time it took. Mama’s kind heart was on a mission to bring joy to the residents of the nursing homes. She taught me that this was the charitable thing to do even though the residents often slept and drooled through my mesmerizing clogging rendition of “Wabash Cannonball.”

  Kindness also dictates that you remember folks in their time of loss or despair. In the South, the appropriate response to every tragedy is a casserole. You must become a master chef of casseroles and you should develop an outstanding reputation for one variety that is your “signature casserole.” I know women who make sure to keep a casserole frozen in their deep freezer so they are prepared when tragedy strikes. This is called a “disasterole.” Doesn’t matter if the disaster involves death, disease, or destruction—the Southern remedy is an avalanche of casseroles.

  Table Manners

  One of the primary reasons Southerners value both the cotillion and debutante traditions is because proper table manners are taught and they are key to evoking Southern charm. Table manners are to be observed every time you eat, whether this is at a fancy wedding, your granny’s kitchen, or at the Cracker Barrel. I have survived many intimidating dinners and navigated many elaborate table settings by relying on the knowledge I acquired in debutante training. I went through a small town debutante program that was not predicated on your family’s prestige or wealth—if you weren’t in jail or pregnant, you qualified. Nevertheless, I was taught the same table manners as high-society Southern debutantes: don’t drink from the finger bowl, never place used flatware on the table surface, don’t use the linen napkin to remove your lipstick, and the most important rule of all: do not begin eating until everyone at the table has been served.

  You must also never use a toothpick at the table. Do y’all hear me?

  Furthermore, you must place your napkin in your lap, keep your elbows off the table, sit up straight, and chew with your mouth closed. You always pass to the right and you never divorce the salt and pepper shakers—even if the person who only requested the pepper is in the midst of a heart attack. You must never reach across the table and eat off of another person’s plate like a wild animal, and you should never discuss religion or politics at the dinner table. You must also never use a toothpick at the table. Do y’all hear me? Never. Even if you have a bacon cheesesteak melt hung up all in your molars at the Waffle House. It looks low rent—and you should never look low rent even if you can’t afford your rent.

  Social Graces

  Even if you master politeness, kindness, and table manners, you will be denied a degree in Southern charm unless you become proficient in social graces. I must warn you this is the most exhausting fundamental. Many Southern boys attend cotillion classes to learn social graces such as social dancing. But social grace training is much more complex for females. Long before Southern girls are old enough to go through the charm schooling required for cotillion or debutante, they are enrolled in Dolly Dinkle Schools. These are schools of tap, ballet, jazz, gymnastics, clogging, music, voice, pageantry, modeling, fire eating, baton twirling, pom-pom shaking, and parade float riding—all skills meant to foster social grace and potentially land you in the Miss America Pageant.

  When I was two and half years old, Mama began my Miss America training by enrolling me in Miss Marion’s School of Dance. Mama was not deterred by the fact that she could not afford the lessons. Sacrifices must be made in the name of social grace! So Mama took a side job working at Miss Marion’s and saw to it that I studied every form of dance. Other lessons followed: piano, voice, banjo . . . Mama was determined for me to have a sensational talent routine prepared for my inevitable participation in Miss America.

  Of course, you can’t possibly win Miss America without years of pageant training, so Mama got on top of that as well. I won my first pageant title, “Wee Miss Gaffney,” when I was five years old. I participated in hundreds of pageants and was coached by various Southern pageant experts, like Rita Allison, who worked diligently to correct the unfortunate fact that, due to my ballet training, I walked turned out like a duck. Interview skills were honed, charity work was encouraged, smiles were perfected, gliding across stages in layers of twinkle material was cultivated, dancing in eighty pounds of ruffles and sequins became second nature, and losing with grace was refined. I’m an excellent loser.

  The irony is after all the pageants, Dolly Dinkle Schools, and debutante training, I graduated high school with zero interest in pursuing Miss America. Mama is still recovering from this news. But learning to smile under pressure, hold my head high and my shoulders back, remain poised in the spotlight, speak knowledgeably about current events, complete a routine or task despite making mistakes, and having the ability to glide across any surface without resembling a duck are all social graces that have served me well, both socially and professionally.

  I would rather be accused of being a devil worshiper than tacky.

  Due to my career, I don’t currently have the privilege of living in the South, but the South follows me everywhere I go. I strive to be polite, kind, mannered, and d
isplay the social graces that were instilled in me. I will never chew gum in public, get a slutty tattoo, or give a limp-noodle handshake. I home-cook meals for guests and immediately offer anyone who enters my home something to drink or eat to make them feel welcome. And I will never show up to a dinner party without a “happy,” which is a hostess gift, because to do so would be tacky beyond words. Like most Southerners, I would rather be accused of being a devil worshiper than tacky. Pursuing a degree in Southern charm teaches you “how to do” and knowing “how to do,” is a far more valuable education than any slick Ivy League institution can provide.

  Pretty is as pretty does.

  Good manners

  never go

  out of style.

  Can you believe that b*%ch

  didn’t write a thank-you note?

  Hospitality is making your

  guests feel at home,

  even if you wish they were.

  Charm is making the

  poor feel rich and

  the old feel young.

  It’s best to measure charm

  so you don’t drown

  in your own sweet tea.

  A good attitude

  spreads like kudzu.

  It’s ill-advised to be

  ill-mannered, il-dressed,

  or ill-informed.

  Sweetie, your cell phone

  was not invited to dinner.

  Good manners are not to be